Light My Fire
by Lur27
Summary: A girls night out might bring some interesting consequences to Beckett, relating certain writer she's not so sure she likes so much yet. Some Beckett/Other Character pairing (not for long). Based on Season 2.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Happy Easter/Spring Break everyone!

This is a birthday gift for a very special friend. We met through FFnet a couple of years ago and she became my new little sister. She has this naughty mind sometimes, so I hope she enjoys this story :P I wish I could give you something more than a simple story, but this is the best thing I can do right now. I love you to pieces, baby sis. Happy birthday!

**DISCLAIMER:** Castle (tv show) is not mine, neither are Castle or Beckett or any of the characters in this story, except the creepy guy and his friend. Those are mine. Cool huh?

* * *

**Light My Fire**

They arrived at the club in a cab, both of them dressed to kill, wearing short sexy dresses and never ending heels on their feet.

Lanie was exulting. She had been begging Kate for a girls-night-out for months, and at last, after practically having to fall to her knees the day before at the morgue, the detective had agreed on going out with her.

The place was brand new; a dark, loud and crowded club with elaborate cocktails and semi-naked barmen and women enlivening the fantasy of the night. It was just the perfect excuse to let off some steam.

"I can't believe I've let you drag me here, Lanie. I have better things to do on a Friday night." Beckett huffed, as they tried to push through the sea of people packing the place.

"Yeah, sure. Doing laundry is such a much better plan, Kate." Lanie shot back, rolling her eyes at her friend and pushing her forwards. "Now shut up and find the bar. What you need right now is a drink."

* * *

A couple of margaritas later, the two women were sitting in a booth, chatting animatedly.

Lanie picked up her drink from the table and sipped on her straw, looking at Kate under her eyelashes. "Admit it. You needed this as much as I did." She said smugly, observing the detective at the other side of the booth.

Beckett smiled and nodded. "Yeah. You were right, Lanie. It was not such a bad idea after all."

"'Course not, girl! You know I'm always right."

They both laughed at Lanie's remark and looked around the place, admiring the dark but elegant decor. There had to be hundreds of people in here.

Kate sighed and nodded towards a guy that had just waved at her from the bar, wincing at her friend. "Ugh. Why do I always have to attract the creepy ones?"

The ME frowned. "That's not true, Kate!" Lanie scolded, putting her glass back down on the table. "And you have a long list of pretty nice guys to prove you wrong."

"Ha!" The detective laughed. "Give me names, doctor Parish." She challenged , her eyes narrowed and daring. "You are going to have to prove that."

Lanie took another sip from her drink and smirked. "Writerboy, for instance."

Kate coughed, spitting her margarita all over the place. "That's you proving me wrong?" She asked amused, cleaning up with a napkin. "Castle is the creepiest one! He's annoying, childish, he _stares_, which is very disturbing, by the way, and he used his friendship with the mayor to follow me around, not to mention that he poked his nose into my mom's case without my consent." She paused, taking a second to lean closer to her friend to emphasize her words. "Seriously, Lanie, if it weren't because I _have_ to put up with him, I would be reporting him for harassment."

The ME laughed at her friend's speech and nodded mockingly, rolling her eyes at her. "Sure, Kate. You keep telling yourself that."

"Well, it's the truth."

Lanie arched an eyebrow at her. "How long have I known you, girl?" She asked. "I know your tell. You're hot for the guy."

Kate gasped and put her drink on the table, making the liquid splash in every direction. "I AM NOT!"

Lanie snorted and turned to look at the dance floor, ignoring Kate's insulted expression.

"Lanie, I am not."

"Uh huh. Sure. Whatever you say, Kate."

* * *

They went down to the dance floor after finishing their third drink.

The buzz of the alcohol was burning through Kate's veins and she felt free, uninhibited and, to her dismay, extremely horny. The need to touch and be touched was driving her insane, making her body sway and writhe to the punching rhythm of the music, trying to get rid of all that pent up frustration.

They guy that waved at her before, was now dancing a few feet away from them, giving her suggestive glances and trying to get closer in a not so subtle way, flanked by a couple of friends.

"The guy is insistent." Lanie observed, when Kate replied with a wave to one of the man's overbold looks. "We have to give him that."

The detective nodded and bit her lip. "Maybe, but I still find him kinda creepy…"

Lanie laughed loudly, grabbing Kate's hand and dragging her towards the bar. "I think you're just not drunk enough. Let's do some shots. Maybe you'll even find him appealing after a couple of them."

"Yeah…" Kate sighed, pushing down the unexpected wave of guilt that washed through her.

* * *

Three rounds of shots later, the 'creepy' guy and one of his friends had joined Kate and Lanie at the bar, offering to buy them another drink.

"Come on girls!" 'Creepy's' friend encouraged. "The night's young. We can still have a lot of fun."

Kate smirked at the way his hands were locked around Lanie's waist. She knew what his idea of fun was.

'Creepy', whose name had turned out to be Dennis, was right behind Kate, his body close enough to let her feel his warmth, but not yet touching her. The guy knew who he was dealing with. If he had dared to put a hand on her, like his friend was doing with Lanie, he would have lost said extremity in a second. _Well played, creepy guy._

* * *

After ordering their drinks and chatting for a while, Lanie and her new friend left for dance floor for some hot and not so subtle canoodling, leaving Kate and Mr. Creepy alone.

"So, you don't wanna dance, Kate?" Dennis asked, leaning on the bar and into her. "Your friend seems to be having a good time."

"Yeah. She loves dancing." She curtly replied.

The guy smiled and brushed a strand of rebel hair behind her ear. "And you don't?"

Kate, surprised by the absence of the need to kill the guy for touching her, just nodded, more than a little confused. Was she so in needed of physical contact? For God's sake! She didn't even like the guy.

Sure he was dark and strong, and his hair fell above his eyes, giving him a childish look of sorts. And he was _big._ Like, tall, wide and muscular big; the kind that made her feel tiny and awoke in her the familiar need to overpower that enormous mass of a body. And he had big hands. No, scratch that. He had _huge _hands. Long, thick fingers that made her mouth water just thinking about the things they could do to her. _Hmm, yeah. _But that was not going to happen. _Nope. No way._

"Kate?" She heard her name in the distance, not really connecting the voice with the man in front of her.

Her mind was racing and her heart was pounding and her blood was boiling inside of her. So, she didn't think. She put her glass on the bar and threw herself at poor ol' creepy guy, who was just fast enough to react and keep them standing, when she tackled him full force.

* * *

_Mmm. Too much teeth_. She thought, as he pushed her against the stall door and crept his hands under her dress.

She had started the whole thing, but now that it was really happening, it felt all wrong. His hands were too big, and they were not soft or caring, he wasn't gentle at all. His movements were frantic and too harsh, and all she could think about while he stuck his tongue down her throat was, _what the hell am I doing?_

Dennis pulled the straps of her dress down, baring her chest and sucking hungrily on her nipples. "Fuck, you're so hot." He groaned against her breast, the stubble on his chin rasping her skin and making her shudder, but not in a good way.

Her head told her that it wasn't right, but her body couldn't help reacting to his touch. It was like an inner war that reason had lost before it even began.

It had been too long since she had had anybody touching her like that, and her body was craving it: The intimate touch and the absolute bliss of relief.

'Creepy' guy inserted his thigh between her legs and she sank onto it, rolling her hips rhythmically.

It was all kinds of wrong, but it felt so right, and she was getting so close…

"Mmmm. Oh yeah, Castle."

Dennis stopped kissing her and stilled her searching hands right when she was about to start dealing with his belt buckle. "What?" She asked confused.

The guy frowned and shook his head, dismissing his sudden interruption and latching on her breast once again, drawing a deep moan from Kate.

She kept rocking against the hard support of his thigh, trying to keep her moaning at bay so they were not busted. Not that having sex in a club stall was anything out of the normal, but there was no need to trumpet it around.

This was not something she was going to be exactly proud about in the morning, when the alcohol was gone out of her system and she was thinking straight again, but for now, Dennis lips on her neck and the friction his lean leg was providing right where she wanted it, were more than enough to make her forget about anything else but release.

He moved his leg farther between hers, propping her higher and pressing hard against her center. "Oh, Castle." She moaned. "So good."

"Who the hell is Castle?"

She heard the annoyed tone of his voice and opened her eyes more than a little confused. "What?" She asked.

"Castle." Dennis barked. "You keep saying that name."

The man ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Look, I know this is just some meaningless fuck in a club, but it's kind of discouraging when you keep saying another guy's name in my ear, you know?"

Kate closed her eyes and pushed Dennis away, hard. It was not his fault, she knew that, but the overwhelming wave of nausea hit her so hard that she felt like she was suffocating. She needed to get out of there.

"Hey! What the h-…" He blurted, right before Kate sneaked behind him and ran out of the bathroom, leaving him there, with his pants halfway down and a painful hard on. "Fucking bitch…"

* * *

She found Lanie at their booth, hooked to Dennis' friend's mouth, her hands grabbing the guy's ass possessively as he sank his in her hair. Apparently, unlike Kate, her friend was not having second thoughts about how her night was going to end.

The detective moved closer to the couple and pulled on Lanie's elbow to make her unlatch from her pick up long enough for her to say goodbye.

"Hey, Lanie. I'm leaving." She said, putting on her coat and grabbing her purse from the chair. "I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

The ME smirked and pulled her closer by the wrist. "You taking Dennis home? Wow! I'm proud of you, girl!"

Kate sighed and shook her head guiltily. "I couldn't do it." She said, her eyes scrutinizing the condensation circles on the table. "I'm ruined, Lanie. Castle has ruined me."

Lanie pushed her man aside and sat straighter to talk to her friend. "Look, Kate, I know you hate being told what to do, but I think it's about time that you go talk to writer boy and set things straight between you two." She took Kate's hand in hers and squeezed. "Two things can happen, sweetie, either you jump the man and fuck his brains out for once and for all, or you clear it all out, get him out of your head, and then, at least you'll be able to have some fun with other men."

Kate scrunched her nose and sighed loudly, startling on a jump when she glimpsed Dennis getting closer to their table. "I gotta go." She blurted on a rush, pulling her hand from Lanie's grasp. "Tell Dennis I'm sorry."

"What?" Lanie enquired with a grimace.

Ten seconds later, she had a very pissed Dennis sitting between her and her man, ranting about his truncated sexual encounter in the restrooms.

_**TBC**_

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**I hope you enjoyed the ride. More to come soon ;) Let me know what you think.**

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY M! :D 3**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hey there, fellas! Sorry I suck so much at updating. Apparently this is my pattern and there's nothing I can do to change it. Meh. Thanks for rolling with it anyway ;)

There were very different opinions about this story and how I dealt with Beckett's character. Some thought she was OOC, some thought she was pictured as a slut... Well, this is my story and this is how I want to write it, but you are all entitled to an opinion and I respect that, so no reviews will be deleted or blocked. All I ask in return is a little bit of respect for what I do. I am not a professional writer (I am light years away from that) but it takes a lot of my free time to do this, and I do it because I love writing and I love this show. I think the least we all fic writers deserve is some respect and leeway to write whatever we want without being treated like shit. This is fanfiction, folks. It's supposed to be done for fun, so let's all chill and enjoy the experience, k? K.

Thanks for staying with me through my rant. Also, thanks for the support and all the nice words (I won't just focus on the bad stuff). You guys are awesome and I love being able to do this, even if it sucks :P

Big thank you to Tshlw for betaing for me! You rock, girl! Fried brain and all LOL. Luv ya!

So, it seems your birthday gift will be looooong, girly ;) I hope you keep enjoying this story. Love you!

* * *

He jumped up in bed when Alexis' cold hands on his face dragged him back from sleep. He was about to find out who was the killer on the intricate plot of a dream he'd been having, and he woke up with the words "_damn it"_ on the tip of his tongue.

"Alexis? What's wrong?" He asked, his eyes trying to adjust to the dim light coming from his study. "Is it the giant coconut puff nightmare again?"

The girl frowned at that and shook her head confused. "Dad, I haven't had that nightmare since I was seven." She punctuated. "There's someone at the door. It's past 2 am. Who knocks at people's doors at this time?"

The writer got out of bed and grabbed his robe, wrapping it around his body and shoving Alexis towards the living room along with him.

The knocking was very insistent and it surprised him that he hadn't heard it first hand, instead of having to be woken up by his daughter. Whoever was behind his door was clearly running out of patience.

"You wait here, I'm gonna check out who it is." He instructed the girl, who looked at him with concerned eyes. "Don't move, ok?"

He looked at his daughter as she nodded at him and gave him a tight smile, her face still reflecting the apprehension she was feeling. He had been living the "cop life" for a year now, but his "little" girl was still not used to the new developments in their lives.

He peeked through the peephole, and he had to blink his eyes hard and look again to make sure he was not imagining things. On the other side of the door was none other than Kate Beckett, looking more than just a bit tipsy. She was swaying subtly from side to side and her eyes were hooded, as if her eyelids were extremely heavy.

He had no idea what had brought the detective to his door in such at state and at such a time, but he was not going to leave her waiting outside until he found out.

"Alexis, go back to your room." He muttered, tying his robe closed and working on the door lock.

"Who is it, dad?" The girl asked, pausing at the stairs. "Is everything ok?"

The writer nodded and gave her a sweet, reassuring smile. "Everything's fine, Pumpkin. Go back to sleep."

After making sure that his daughter was upstairs and out of hearing range, he finally opened the door.

Saying it was luck that the girl was gone by the time he opened the door would be an understatement. As soon as Beckett walked inside his loft, she threw her arms around his neck and started kissing him as if her life depended on it.

It took him a while to react. His arms were hanging slack at his sides and his eyes were wide open, as if he were waiting for his brain cells to start working again. Finally, something snapped inside his head and he pushed her away, holding her tightly by the shoulders and keeping her at a fair distance.

"Beckett? What the hell are you doing? Are you drunk?" He questioned her, his eyes trying to find some of the detective's uptight, severe self somewhere in her. "Kate?"

She giggled – _she giggled?_ – And then tried to throw off his grasp to get closer to him. "Yes, Castle?" She asked with a voice so mellow, it made him squirm.

"What are you doing here?"

His stare was deep and searching. He wanted to find out what in the world had happened; how many bottles of vodka had been emptied that night or exactly which of the planets had aligned up in the sky, so that detective Kate Beckett had ended up at his door, wanting to jump his bones at 2 in the freaking morning.

Kate looked at him through hooded eyes; her thick, black lashes casting shadows on the sharp edges of her cheekbones. "I wanted to see you." She whispered, biting her lower lip right after.

God, she was so sexy. Even drunk and disheveled as she was in front of him, with her dress scrunched up, showing too much thigh, and her hair all messed up, probably from running her fingers through it all night, just the same way she had done mere seconds ago when he pushed her away; she drove him insane_._ But he couldn't just give in. It wouldn't be fair to any of them. Not in her state.

"Why?" He asked. His voice was low and steady, but gentle. "Why did you want to see me?"

She smirked and moved closer, her hands playing clumsily with the hem of his robe. "Oh, so I need a reason now?"

He stopped her hands and tipped her face up so she was looking into his eyes. "Yes, when you end up at my door, drunk and try to climb me like a tree at the wee hours of the morning, you do, Beckett. You hate me, remember?"

She laughed at that. "Seriously?" She asked incredulous. "You're really going to stop to question this right now, Castle?"

She caught him by surprise when she pulled on the knot of his robe and undid it, letting the garment fall open, as well as her mouth, as she gladly gaped at his naked chest in appreciation, before throwing herself at him once again, latching her mouth to his neck this time.

"Beckett." He gasped at the feeling of her mouth over his skin. "No. Stop. Please." He muttered again, trying to stop her advances without any success. His knees were starting to give up when he finally grabbed her shoulders and yelled, "Kate!"

"What?" She asked, clearly irritated. "Gosh, you're so frustrating!"

She tugged at the ends of his robe, trying to take it off completely and he stilled her hands. "Kate, no!"

"What's wrong with you, Castle?" She growled, yanking her hands from his grasp. "You've been trying to get into my pants since the day I met you, and now you're stopping me?" The furrow of her brows above her eyes and the perfect 'O' that she formed with her lips gave her a comical look, like a little kid tired of being scolded. "You're not having… you know…" She looked directly to his midsection, arching an eyebrow in question. "Problems?"

"WHAT?! NO! No problems down there, thank you very much, Beckett." He spat more than a little offended. "Now, can you look back up, please? This is getting a _tiny_ bit uncomfortable."

He was getting redder by the second. Her eyes were glued to his groin now, as if she were using her nonexistent x-ray vision on him, and hell if it wasn't making him anxious and extremely self-conscious.

He could willingly prove to her that he was not having any kind of trouble down there. In fact, he was surprised that she hadn't noticed his growing erection through the thin fabric of his boxers yet.

Kate smirked smugly, nodding to herself and licking her lips, ruining his illusions of passing unnoticed. "I wouldn't use that word, but you're the writer here, not me."

Castle sighed, rubbing his face with both his hands. "Do you mind if we go to my office? Alexis sleeps upstairs. This is not something I want her to hear if she wakes up for some reason."

The detective bit her lip suggestively and started walking towards his study, her hips swaying slowly from side to side, hypnotizing him. She was not going to make it easy for him, was she?

* * *

When he turned around after closing his office door, he was greeted by the view of Beckett sitting on his desk. Her never-ending legs were hanging 12 inches away from the floor, swinging playfully back and forth, and she had lost her shoes along the way. She was leaning forward, gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself straight, but the posture was showing a little too much cleavage than what was healthy for Castle's sanity, exposing as well a very recent, very angry love-bite right between her breasts.

She smiled at him as soon as he faced her, her eyes going darker. "Come 'ere."

Castle tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, but it had become almost impossible now. It was clear that she had been with somebody else before she decided to pay him a late night visit, but what had him completely out of his mind was: why in the world would she come seeking him after having it on with some other guy?

He didn't even know how to keep saying no to her anymore. There was no way he would ruin the frail friendship they had built during the last year, or risk not having something deeper with her in the future, just because of some drunk, meaningless one night stand that they would both regret in the morning, even less now, knowing he hadn't been her first choice.

But, he wanted her so much. God knew it was taking all his self-restraint to keep himself from walking the eight feet separating them and ravishing her right there, on top of his desk, without even getting rid of their clothes. He needed her. He wanted to smell, taste and feel her soft skin, her luscious lips; run his fingers through the silky length of her hair, just get lost in her essence; in Kate, the woman, the person. Her. It would be so easy, but so very wrong.

"Beckett, I can't… We can't."

She hopped off the desk and walked closer to him. Slowly, measuring her steps. "Why not, _Rick_?" She asked, the fire in her eyes intensifying, but her voice staying low and controlled. "I stopped playing hard to get and now I'm not interesting anymore?" She purred. "Huh? Was that all that you liked, Castle? The chase?"

He took a step back and sighed loudly keeping a hand between them. "Where were you before you came here, Kate?" He inquired, his eyes boring into hers for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

"Out." She hissed, batting his hand away. "What does it matter?"

"It does to me." He replied. "You're drunk and not thinking straight."

She laughed at that. Hard, and too loud, and too fake. "I know perfectly fine what I am doing. Stop patronizing me, Castle. That's not what I want from you right now."

He stepped farther away, crossing his arms across his chest. "Then answer the question, Beckett. Where were you before you decided to come here?"

Kate huffed her annoyance, still trying to reduce the distance between them. "I was out, Castle! How does that even matter?"

"Oh, it does." He replied, piercing her with his severe glare. "Who gave you that hickey?"

She looked at him completely confused, obviously oblivious to the fact that Dennis, the creepy guy, had marked her so thoroughly. "What?"

He crowded her then, pressing her back against the backrest of an armchair and lowering the hem of her neckline with his index finger, very slowly, uncovering the angry mark.

"Oh." was all that came out of her mouth for a good long minute. "That is nothing."

TBC

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**Good stuff's coming real soon! :P Stay tuned, my friends. **

**In the meantime you can leave your comments below. They don't need to be good reviews, just polite, please :) Thank you so much for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Hey guys! I am sorry it's taken me so long to update this time. Not that I am very reliable when it comes to that anyway... I just wanted to apologize to having you waiting.

I am not happy at all with this chapter. It ended up going in the opposite direction to where I wanted it to go, and to be honest, I had no idea of how to deal with it at all. This is sort of a filler chapter and it's written from Beckett's POV for a change. I do have an idea of how to make this work and go back to where I had it intended to go from the beginning, but stories are very whimsical and one never knows what's going to happen next. Just bear with me ;)

Thanks a lot for all the support and the follows. You guys are super amazing. Sending lots of hugs your way.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"_Who gave you that hickey?"_

_She looked at him completely confused, obviously oblivious to the fact that Dennis, the creepy guy, had marked her so thoroughly. "What?"_

_He crowded her then, pressing her back against the backrest of an armchair and lowering the hem of her neckline with his index finger, very slowly, uncovering the angry mark._

_"Oh." was all that came out of her mouth for a good long minute. "That is nothing."_

* * *

She removed herself from the narrow gap between Castle and the chair as graciously as she could, trying to ignore the furious shade of pink her skin had turned right after her partner had spotted and uncovered her little secret.

_A hickey?_ She couldn't believe it. It was as if she was fifteen all over again, and all of a sudden, she had travelled back to that time when her dad caught her putting on some extra make up on her neck after a make out session got carried away with Billy Lawson. She had a hard time explaining that, and she sure as hell was going to have a hard time explaining this.

She felt Castle leaning against the chair at her back and she sighed. Her brain was foggy, completely useless under the scrutinizing stare of her partner, and the alcohol running through her veins wasn't helping, either.

"So that's it? You're gonna leave it at that?" The writer asked. He leaned farther into the armrest of the chair; crossing his arms and taking a hundred steps back from her with the gesture alone.

She huffed, turning too fast in the process, having to grasp his arm to steady herself. "What do you want me to say, Castle?" She asked, taking a couple of steps so she could sit on the armrest of the opposite chair She could feel the headache starting to build at the back of her skull. "It's not like it needs much explanation. What do you want to know?"

"You know what I want to know, Kate." He groaned, the sound of her first name on his lips making her insides burn. "_Why_ are you here?"

"I already told you. I wanted to see you."

"Of course. So, what you mean is that you were in the middle of fucking another guy and suddenly you felt the inexplicable need to come see _me_. Is that it? 'Cause that makes even less sense than no explanation at all, Beckett."

She turned her face to him, her hand landing on his knee. "Maybe he wasn't man enough for me."

Something inside her buzzed brain snapped as soon as the words slipped from her tongue, and she jumped back to her feet. Her hands covered her mouth and she blushed so furiously, that she thought her blood was going to start gushing out of her pores.

Castle's stunned face didn't help much to alleviate her embarrassment.

By the time the writer reacted, she was halfway through the living room, trying to hold back the tears as she tripped over her own feet.

"Beckett wait!" He called. "Please."

"No. I gotta go, Castle. It's late and you were right; I shouldn't have come here. I am sorry." She blurted, a lot rushed, and a little tongue-twisted. "See you on Monday, ok?"

She opened the door, but before she was able to take a step outside, a hand closed around her wrist and dragged her inside the loft once again.

"Ah, no. You're not leaving."

The door closed before her and she felt the writer pulling on her arm to make her face him, but she refused to give in. She had already embarrassed herself enough.

"Castle, let go of me." She barked, her voice hard and steady, trying to convey all the strength that she was actually lacking at that precise moment.

"Beckett…" He sighed. "Kate. Look, I have no idea what has gotten into you tonight, but I can't let you go like this, ok?" He kept pulling on her wrist until she followed him to the kitchen and he made her sit on a stool, his hand never letting go of her, which made her skin twitch under his touch.

"I just wanna go home." She whispered. The weight of a freaking exhausting week and the hell of an emotional rollercoaster of a night falling on her shoulders all of a sudden. She was so tired.

The alcohol was starting to wear off and all that fake bravado she had brandished when she arrived at the writer's was melting away, along with the resolution to get him out of her system and move on with her life.

That had been the plan when she gave his address to the cabby, after leaving Dennis at the club. Come to his home and fuck his brains out, so she could get him out of her head and stop having those stupid fantasies about him all the time. He was her… partner? Sort of; and there was no way in hell she was going to fall for Richard '_one blonde on each arm' _Castle, thank you very much. She just needed to have her way with him once, and then she'd be good to go on with her life. That was all.

Or, at least, that was what her brain wanted her to believe.

Castle stroked her arm lightly, the tenderness of the gesture making her mouth curve upwards a little bit. "Come on, it's late and you're not exactly sober yet, so why don't we move you to the couch, ok? I will lend you some clothes and then you can take a shower and stay the night in the guest room. You just need some rest. Everything will be clearer in the morning."

* * *

The rebel ray of sun that sneaked through the tiny gap left between the blinds and the window tickled Kate's nose, making it twitch. The funny feeling didn't go away, so she moaned and rubbed her face trying to get rid of the unwanted sensation. No success.

Sighing loudly she turned around in bed and stretched her limbs all she could, opening her eyes as she relaxed her still languid muscles. She smiled to herself; waking up with the sun was not something she had the luxury to do normally, but her bliss didn't last long. As soon as her brain became fully awake, it started pounding inside her skull, bringing back the memories of the night before, along with a horrible hangover.

The club, the alcohol, the guy, the bathroom stalls, his hands on her, the cab ride, Castle's lips, and then, a stupid and totally unwanted feeling of rejection.

She sat in bed and looked around, remembering that she had stayed at his loft for the night, but this for sure was not his guest room. This was _his_ room.

She got out of bed and wandered into the ample bathroom, admiring the almost pool-sized tub and wishing she could have the chance to try it. He did offer her a shower last night, which she didn't take. She couldn't remember anything after he disappeared behind the door to his office to find her something to wear. She probably passed out before he came back, that being the reason she was still wearing her scant blue dress, that was barely covering the important parts of her anatomy.

She sighed her resignation and walked farther inside the bathroom, wanting to check herself in the mirror. She was going to have to face him again. She was going to have to swallow her pride and embarrassment and get out of his room, and then, out of his loft, as graciously as she could without losing any more of her confidence. That was going to be hard to do.

She sure as hell had done a great job making an ass of herself the night before, and she was certain that Castle would want to talk about it, but there was no way she was going to. Showing him so clearly that she wanted him had been a huge mistake; there was not a chance that she was going to verbalize it too.

After all, it was just a whim. He was an attractive, successful, smart man who she had admired even before she had met him (although he didn't need to know that), and it was totally natural that she was attracted to him in some way.

It had always been there, the attraction. It was inherent between them, but lately it had become unbearable. Every look, every smile, every stupid remark or flirtation made her go wild inside and she needed it to stop.

_Get him out of your system, Kate._ That had been her thought when she left the club the night before.

It was a good plan. How could it have failed? He should have taken the bait and gone with it so that she would be doing her walk of shame right now with one less problem in her head, but _no_, he had to go and be his charming self and be all worried and caring, and make her feel cheap, and stupid, and rejected.

Well, _thank you, Castle._

After inspecting her appearance in the mirror, she turned to find the toilet, letting out a sharp scream when she found herself face to face with an unknown creature.

* * *

The bathroom door burst open with a bang and she startled so badly that she crashed against the wall behind her, her head hitting the tiles hard.

"Beckett, are you ok?" The writer asked, brandishing a spatula as a weapon.

Kate just watched him for a while, her eyes traveling from the writer to the life size action figure presiding over his bathroom, not knowing if she should laugh at his weapon of choice, or rip his head off for entering the room without knocking.

After a few moments to regain her composure, she plucked the spatula from his hand and hit his head with it. "What the fuck, Castle?" She yelled, trying to cover as much of her body as she could with her tiny dress. "What is this thing?"

The writer winced and rubbed his head, smirking a bit when he realized the reason of Beckett's distress. "Oh, I see you met Boba Fett." He laughed. "I can't believe you got scared by a pile of steel, detective."

"Well, I wasn't expecting it to be there. Who has a galactic bounty hunter in their bathroom?!"

Castle smiled and winked at her, finding it pretty interesting that she actually knew who Boba Fett was. "I do." Patting the action figure on the head, he turned to the door and waved the recovered spatula over his head. "Breakfast is almost ready, so hurry up!"

Beckett frowned and bit her lip, viciously. This was not going the way it should. "Breakfast?" She asked to herself. _He's dreaming if he thinks I'm staying._

* * *

Castle was busy serving an obscene amount of eggs on a plate, when she walked out of his bedroom, smoothing her dress down and begging it to grow some extra inches of fabric to cover her up a bit more. It was a nice dress, just not something you would wear at 8 in the morning on a regular day, even less if you had embarrassed yourself in front of your friend/partner? by jumping him the night before without previous warning.

She stood in the middle of the living room staring awkwadrly at him, her hands playing with the hem of her dress and her teeth torturing her lower lip. She needed to get out of there, and she needed to do it fast.

Castle smiled at the view in front of him, apparently finding her discomfort very amusing. "I took out a hoodie for you last night. It's on the couch if you want it." He offered, taking two plates from the counter and moving to the dining table. "Breakfast is ready."

She didn't move for a while, still trying to figure out how to escape. She wasn't sure of what to do. He was absolutely convinced that she was staying for breakfast, but she was physically incapable of sitting at the table with him and pretend that nothing had happened, or even worse, sit there and discuss the events of the night before over coffee and pancakes.

"Beckett, this is getting cold." He called from the dining area, munching on some eggs.

Kate cleared her throat and approached the couch, picking up the navy blue hoodie from it and putting in on. "Castle, I'm sorry, but I am not staying."

TBC

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**Thanks so much for reading. Leave your comments below so I know how to improve this in any way ;) **

**Thank you, Tshlw, for betaing this for me and for dealing with my breakdowns during my writing process. You are the best, girl. No discussion.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Hi there, everybody! I am back. Again sorry for making you guys wait so long between updates, but my writing process is just this messed up.

This chapter is kind of a transition piece, but it's needed to get to the next part of the story. I am going to try and write faster this time, but I can't promise anything. Will do my best though.

Thank you so much for all the follows and reviews, you guys are simply amazing and I love writing for you. Sending lots of hugs your way.

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_"Beckett, this is getting cold." He called from the dining area, munching on some eggs._

_Kate cleared her throat and approached the couch, picking up the navy blue hoodie from it and putting in on. "Castle, I'm sorry, but I am not staying."_

* * *

The writer got up from his chair chewing on his breakfast as he went, trying to swallow the food so he could speak again. "WHAT? Why?" He grumbled. "I know you don't trust my cooking skills, Beckett, but I have to tell you, breakfast is one of my fortes. I make the best chocolate chip pancakes in New York. And I mean the state, not the city. You can ask Alexis..."

He was just vomiting words, he didn't seem to have any kind of control over it and she knew it, but he didn't seem to care what came out of his mouth, as long as he was able to make her stay.

Beckett sighed and walked a little closer to him, her hands hidden under the long sleeves of his hoodie, the cuffs scrunched inside her fists. "Castle, it smells delicious, but I am not hungry, really. I just want to go home."

"But…" He started, his face falling. He detoured walking to the kitchen and grabbing a mug. "No coffee either?" It was his last chance. It was coffee. She wouldn't say no to coffee. It was his peace offering, something soothing. Something theirs.

Kate's shoulders slumped a little and she felt her resolve cracking, but she needed to get out of there, so she took a deep breath and shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I really need to get going."

She grabbed her bag and headed for the door, avoiding looking at the writer so the guilt wouldn't swallow her whole. She was being unfair and she knew it. After all, she had been the one showing up at his home, making a mess out of everything, and was now running away, without giving him even a simple explanation. _How nice of you, Kate._

As soon as she touched the doorknob she heard rustling behind her and then a hand on her shoulder.

"Kate?"

She didn't turn, just shrugged him off and walked out of his loft. "I'm sorry, Castle."

* * *

He sat at the table for at least another hour after she left, the food untouched in front of him, mocking him in some twisted way.

He had been hopeful that morning when he woke up, thinking that maybe they would have the chance to talk it out and clear the air between them before it became too awkward.

He knew it was going to be hard, that Kate was probably the most stubborn and closed up human being on Earth, but she had been the one who came to his door the night before, so he thought that maybe this time, it would be easier to reason with the normally unreachable detective Beckett. How wrong he had been.

He felt stupid, because it hurt so much. He had started to care a lot about her, so much, that sometimes it felt inappropriate, because what were they anyway? Fragile friends? Tentative partners? Hypothetical future lovers?

She was extraordinary, smart, incredibly beautiful and challenging, invigorating… Everything he knew he would love in a woman, but never looked for in one, just in case. After two divorces, he tried to keep his heart behind bars, but it was very hard to do that around a certain detective. He knew there was something there, but she had always kept him at arm's length. Always, until last night.

The noise of a door closing and footsteps approaching startled him out of his reverie, setting his '_daddy'_ senses into action. He got up from the table, cleared the untouched serving of pancakes and proceed to warm it up for his little girl. At least he wouldn't leave the food to spoil.

Alexis' slight shape appeared at the top of the staircase and he smiled, taking in the sweet, sleepy face of his daughter. She was already wearing her school uniform; her hair pulled back on a sideways French braid that he had no idea how she managed to do on her own. She looked beautiful and just looking at her made his heart cheer up a little bit.

The teen took in the display on the dining table and frowned at him in surprise. "Wow! What's the feast for? Are we celebrating something?"

"What? Can't a father treat his daughter to a delicious breakfast just because he wants to?" He asked faking feeling outraged.

Alexis narrowed her eyes and sat down at the table, placing a napkin on her lap and reaching for toast and some eggs. "Sure, dad, whatever you say. But I am sure I heard the front door closing a while ago, so I am suspecting this fatherly streak is all a ruse to distract me from that suspicious nightly visitor?"

Castle chocked on the gulp of coffee he had just taken and turned bright red. "What?"

"Last night, Dad." Alexis insisted annoyed. "Are you really inviting women into the loft? 'Cause it is disturbing, just so you know."

The writer forgot about the pancakes that were already warm and ready to go and moved towards his daughter, his face white like paper.

"Pumpkin, that is not what happened last night. I didn't invite anybody. I mean, you came to wake me up, remember? I wasn't even out!"

The redhead scrunched her nose and pursed her lips and then nodded. "Then who came by last night?"

"Um…" He stuttered. He wasn't sure how to explain the events of last night to his daughter. "It was… It was Beckett. She wasn't… feeling well? So… She crashed here for the night. Yeah. That's it."

"She crashed here?" The girl asked confused. "Is there anything wrong with her apartment?"

Castle's eyebrows shot up and he licked his lips slowly. "Um, no. Nothing wrong. She just… She…"

"Morning, darlings!" Martha's voice resounded in the room like a booming lifesaver that made Rick sigh in relief. "The smell of coffee brought me back from the dead. Oh, and bacon! What's gotten into you this morning, Richard?" The woman chattered, taking a plate and serving some food for herself.

"Apparently, Detective Beckett spent the night here." Alexis commented nonchalantly, biting on her toast and looking pointedly at her dad, her eyes nothing but innocent. "I was asking Dad what was wrong, 'cause she arrived unannounced at 2 am and that is not like Beckett, don't you think, Gram?"

The older woman arched her eyebrows surprised and turned to her son. "I am sure there was a good reason for Detective Beckett to come here, darling."

Castle nodded effusively and picked up the almost burnt pancakes, pilling them up on the plate and offering them to his daughter. "Yes, there… there was and… it was totally related to work. Yes."

His daughter chewed on her breakfast and frowned. "Uh huh."

"Oh!" Martha exclaimed suddenly, stroking Alexis' arm while looking at her watch. "Wasn't Paige's mom picking you up at 8:30 today?" She asked.

The girl jumped out of her chair, leaving her pancakes uneaten, and cleaned up with her napkin. "Oh yes! Thanks, Gram. I forgot." Then, after picking up her bag and kissing her father and grandmother goodbye, she stepped out the door and left for school.

A few seconds passed in silence until his mother took a sip of her coffee and turned on her chair to look at him once again. "So." She muttered, looking at him through her eyelashes as she took another short swig from her mug. "She spent the night here, huh?"

The writer huffed and ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it even more than it already was. "Not you too, mother! It was… not like _that_."

"Like _how_, dear? I didn't imply she stayed in any way in particular." The redhead defended herself with a smirk. "But now that you mention it, Richard, _why_ would Beckett come here in the middle of the night and then stay? You will have to agree that it is at least suspicious, darling."

"Well… yeah." He agreed with a sigh, his head falling down in defeat.

He knew his mother was more than aware of how he was starting to feel about Beckett, how it was not just about the books anymore. The detective had become someone very important in his life, and as much as he wanted to protect her privacy, he also wanted some advice, so as much as it pained him, he needed to tell his mom what had happened the night before.

"She was… _wasted_, mother. So. Very. Drunk!" He said, almost embarrassed. "I opened the door and she…" The blush that climbed up his body was totally unexpected, but he couldn't do anything to fight it. He felt like a 12 year old boy after giving his first kiss.

"She what, Richard?"

"She attacked me!" He shrieked. "I had her tongue down my throat before I had time to react."

Martha almost laughed at her son and had to school her features before she talked again. She was sure Rick had had a very hard time having to fight off a wild detective Beckett, even more when he was falling for her so hard.

"Well, I am sure that it was a nightmare for you, kiddo." She mocked him just out of habit.

He glared at her for a second and then walked away and let himself fall down onto the couch. "Well, it was!" He replied. "I had to stop her, mother. I couldn't let it go any farther than that. Not when she was not thinking clearly."

She followed him into the living room and took a seat right beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And you did the right thing."

"I know." He nodded. "I know I did. But you have no idea how hard it was, Mother. She just walked in here, looking like she just came out of one of my dreams, wearing that little excuse of a dress and wanting me! She wanted _me_!" He practically yelled. "But then, I realized it was not right and I stopped her."

"Because you're a gentleman." Martha added suddenly proud of her boy.

"She had been with someone else before she came here." He blurted it out as if the words burnt his tongue. And maybe they did somehow. It hurt to say it out loud, because it made it more real. He had been intended as a rebound, the second course, the last choice.

Martha blinked hard and then took a few seconds to process his words. "She what?"

"I asked and she admitted to it. She had been out with another guy. Then came to see me."

"Richard, darling, that she was out with someone else doesn't mean anything. She came here in the end, that means something."

"I don't know. I have no idea what happened with that man, and I have no idea of what brought her here. I tried to talk to her last night, but we ended up fighting and she was so drunk… it was late so I made her stay the night. I took the guest room." He glanced at the kitchen with his head and smirked. "I cooked breakfast as a peace offering, but she didn't stay. Too awkward, I guess."

Martha reached for his hand then and squeezed, giving him a sympathetic smile. "I need to talk to her, mother. I need to know what happened here last night, but it's like talking to a freaking concrete wall."

"After years talking to walls, my son, I've learnt that even if they don't talk, they usually do listen. Go. If there's something you're good with, those are words, Richard. I wouldn't be surprised if you were the first man to make concrete talk back."

TBC

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**I hope you enjoyed the ride ;) Leave a comment, suggestion, review, thought... I'd love to know your opinion.**

**Shout out to my lovely beta, Tshlw. You are magnificent. I love you, girl! Thanks so much for your help.**

**To the birthday girl, cause this is yours and it still keeps going ;) Love you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Evening, fellas! Again, it took me forever to update, but this time I really have been busy, and then sick, and then freaking busy again. I hope this chapter makes up for all the waiting time.

I haven't been replying to the reviews you've been leaving for the last few chapters, but my life is pretty crazy right now and I don't have much time to write, let alone write my thanks to all of you, amazing people. That doesn't mean that I am not extremely grateful for all of your comments and sweet words. I will try to catch up on my replies once work slows down a bit, I promise! That said; THANK YOU SO MUCH!

I am not gonna lie, I LOVE writing these two at odds. It's fun! But don't worry, the angst won't last forever. I am a sucker for happy endings. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 5**

It burnt. The feeling of his clothes on her, burnt her skin, even as sinfully soft as his hoodie was. It was his scent all over her that made it unbearable. The heavy load of disappointment in his eyes when she walked out on him that made it weigh too much on her shoulders.

She wanted to get rid of it and never take it off at the same time. He made her feel such a mixture of things that she felt like a contradiction herself. What was she going to do?

She opened the door to her apartment and walked inside; sighing loudly at the cold, empty space that greeted her.

She was tired. She had slept a few hours in Castle's bed, but drunken sleep was not exactly restful, and her brain was starting to pound rhythmically against her skull.

After walking through her messy living room and making a mental note to self to clean up a little bit later, she walked to her bedroom and started getting rid of her clothing.

Castle's hoodie landed in her bed, right in the middle of it, like it was presiding over the damn thing, as if it owned it.

How did he do that, anyway? How did he manage to get in the middle of everything?

She huffed and turned around, looking away from the bed. She was so tired of thinking.

She unzipped the dress and walked out of it, kicking it to one corner of the room, working now on her bra. The thing was a mess. It was all scrunched down, the straps too loose and twisted. Dennis had taken care of that, she thought, a little disgusted.

Guilt and embarrassment assaulted her suddenly when she looked down and saw the now almost black bruise still growing between her breasts, and she let herself fall to her knees.

"_Shit_!" She mumbled as she touched the marred skin, hissing at the sting-y throb she felt under her fingers. That stupid mark had given her away, but maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was all for the best.

She and Castle needed some distance, or so she kept telling herself. It was the only way to make things go back to how they were before, although she doubted they could go back to that after the stunt she played the night before and how she had pretty much walked out on him that morning, leaving the terms of their partnership in the air…

_Fuck! _Castle was not going to let this one go. This was not something she was going to be able to sweep under the rug like she always did.

Her writer – no, scratch that – _Castle_ was physically incapable of keeping his mouth shut; he was one of those people who needed to talk it out, just exactly the opposite of her, and that was definitely going to be a problem.

* * *

She woke up way after 2 pm, the two tablets of Advil she had taken before going to bed having done nothing to tamper down her horrible headache, and now her stomach was joining the mix, rumbling loudly for something to calm down her appetite.

She got out of bed and jumped in the shower to get rid of the remnants of her hangover, along with the ghost of Dennis' hands and mouth on her; just the memory of being with him made her squirm, and not precisely in a good way. If only it had been just Castle touching her that night.

After putting on a worn pair of yoga pants and a loose t-shirt, she made some coffee, ordered Chinese from her favorite place and started tidying up her living room, just to have something to distract her mind with while she waited for the food.

She didn't want to think. Not yet. She'd have plenty of time for that. There'd be a big opportunity for self-deprecation after she'd eaten and recharged her brain with new fuel, so it could go back to traveling along the wonderful lands of Guilt.

* * *

She was putting away a bag full of Styrofoam containers, piling it on top of the other 3 trash bags that she had collected, - she really needed to work on her cleaning routine - when there was a knock at the door.

Her stomach growled at the thought of the delicious spring rolls and the beef teriyaki she had ordered, so she padded quickly to the coffee table to grab her money and then back to the door, regretting her decision of not checking who it was as soon as she opened it.

"You are not Chinese." She blurted, her eyes wide with surprise and then falling into a deep frown.

Castle smiled and shook his head amused, raising an eyebrow in question. "I'm… _sorry_? But I can speak some, if that makes you feel any better." He supplied, still grinning.

Kate rolled her eyes and huffed, pointing her head towards the Chinese delivery guy that had just appeared behind the writer. "No, Castle. I was expecting food, not… _you_."

His face fell and he stepped aside to leave room for the other man, who traded the big paper bag for the money Beckett was offering him, and left looking fairly confused.

Kate stared at him from inside her door, chewing on her lower lip, the paper bag pressed against her chest.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just…" He trailed off feeling at a loss for words, 'cause what was he supposed to say? She clearly didn't want him there, but he already knew that before he took a cab all the way to her apartment.

"Are you hungry?" She asked impulsively. She couldn't help it. The sadness in his eyes when she had pretty much addressed him as unwanted company was too much for her to bear. His face had become so somber that she just could not stand it. "There's too much food in here anyway."

That was enough to make the shadows leave his eyes, so she sighed and walked inside the apartment without waiting for his answer. She knew he would follow, like he always did.

"Can you lock it, please?" She requested from the kitchen counter. "I'm a bit paranoid."

Castle laughed, turning the bolt closed. "Hey, this is New York. Paranoid is a virtue here." He joked. "And you're a cop, so… totally understandable."

She couldn't help but smile at him. He was still standing by the door, his back pressed against the wooden surface, not knowing what to do with himself. That reassured her somehow. It made her feel like she was not the only one freaking out about the whole situation, but she needed him to move, talk, do anything. The last thing they needed was adding more awkwardness to the already charged atmosphere surrounding them.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" She asked, trying to sound disgruntled and failing.

"I uh… no. Sorry." he mumbled through a mild smirk, trotting his way towards her. "So, what did you order?"

* * *

Normalcy lasted just as long as the food did. The moment they finished eating, the shadow of awkwardness hovered again above them, and neither of them knew what to do to break the silence.

Finally, after a few minutes full of longing sighs and furtive glances, Kate seemed to have had enough of it and huffed loudly, earning her a pointed look from Castle.

"So what's with the silent treatment? Is that what you came here for?"

He looked at her quizzically for a long while, trying not to snap at her sharp comment. Was she joking? Was she serious? He had no idea what she was trying to do.

"You know perfectly fine why I'm here, Beckett." He replied calmly. "We _both_ know."

"Yeah, well…" She whispered, scratching her head and avoiding his eyes. "Then maybe you should just leave, because I don't think what you're expecting is going to happen, Castle." She rasped. "I'm sorry."

"What do you think I am expecting?" He asked confused.

"Talking?"

Bingo! And yes, that was more like it, right? This was the Beckett he knew. The defensive mode kicking in and getting the best of her, making her push him away and run in the opposite direction as fast as possible.

"Why can't we talk about it?"

She got up from the couch, her eyes hard on him, begging him to stop. "Why can't we forget it ever happened?"

"Kate." He pleaded with her, her name burning his tongue. "I just…" He sighed, rubbing his forehead a little too hard.

He didn't know how to go on. She was looking at him like a lost little girl. He could tell she was in pain, that what had happened the night before had affected her as much as it did him, but she was trying to bury it under denial, hoping that maybe that way she wouldn't have to face the real reasons for her actions.

"What, Castle? You just _what_?" She inquired desperately. "What do you want from me? What do you think is going to happen if we talk about it? What happened last night? Is that what you're looking for? Finish what we started?"

He narrowed his eyes and looked at her, incredulity flooding his stare. "What?"

She walked closer to him, leaning down and placing her hands on his shoulders. "You heard me, Castle. Is that why you're here? We talk it out and you get _some_ after?"

He shrugged her hands off and slipped off the couch, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. "How can you even say that, Kate? You know perfectly fine that that is not why I'm here." He panted. "Maybe that was all I wanted from you some time ago, but not anymore."

Her face darkened at his confession. She couldn't deal with that at the moment, why was he doing this? Why was he pushing her to do exactly what she had been trying to avoid?

She could feel the wall she so perfectly built around her heart ten years ago shaking to its foundation, and she couldn't allow that. The fissures and cracks had started to let some of the outer light inside and it was so bright and scary that she was hiding in the only dark, humid corner there was left, protecting herself as much as she could from the external menace. It was time to fight back and get rid of the threat for once and for all.

She needed him gone. The farthest the better.

"Are you sure, Castle? Are you sure you don't want that?" She asked seductively, walking closer to the already stunned writer. "Because if that's the price I have to pay for you to leave me alone, I am more than willing to do it."

Castle stumbled backwards; his eyes wide open, sporting his hands as shields to keep her at a distance. "Are you fucking crazy?"

"Why, _Rick_? That's what it takes, right? I give you what you want and you vanish from my life like the good womanizer you are." She hisses, drawing closer to him. "We both get what we want."

Her green orbs sparkled with fire and determination as she advanced towards him, undoing the buttons of her shirt very slowly, her eyes locked with his.

Castle swallowed loudly when she uncovered her chest, the offending hickey mocking him from between her breasts. His throat bobbed up and down exaggeratedly, attracting her gaze to his Adam's apple. "God, Kate, that is sick!" He whispered, not sure where his voice had gone to.

She shook her head and licked her lips, smiling when the writer hit an armchair in his backwards retreat and fell down to a sitting position, allowing her to get closer, straddling his thighs and sitting on his lap. "No, Castle. That's called survival."

He scoffed, completely lost. "I am _not_ a fucking predator, Kate! I am not here to hurt you."

"Yes! Yes, Castle, you are." She yelled, her eyes filling up with tears. She grasped the collar of his shirt and leaned closer, her breath mingling with his.

"You'll get too close and you will see the ugly truth, and then, you'll walk away, so why don't you do it now, huh?" She panted the last few words. Her breathing was labored and irregular, making evident that she wouldn't be able to keep from crying for much longer. "Save us some unnecessary pain."

The tears started rolling down her face as her body shook with the shudder she had been trying to restrain. "Just go away, Castle. Please. Before it's too late."

Those were the last words she said before she closed the remaining distance and kissed him, her teeth chasing his lower lip with desperation.

Castle was stunned, not knowing what to do with his hands until her mouth traveled down his neck and it all became too much to bear. "Kate. Kate, stop, please. I… I can't do this."

The detective stopped the kissing, separating her lips from his neck with a soft pop. "Oh, but you can, Castle." She replied, rolling her hips insistently and extracting a moan from him. "You _so_ can."

A few deep breaths was all it took for the writer to regain his composure and push her away, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "No. I can't."

Kate wiped away the tears from her right cheek and slid off his lap, pulling the two parts of her shirt together, covering herself.

"Look," he sighed. "If you want me to leave you alone, I will, Kate. You don't need to do this."

He was the one approaching her now, reaching for her face and stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I just want you to be happy, and if that's what it takes, you have it." Leaning closer, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a second too long. "It's been a pleasure, Kate. Tell the boys I'll miss them."

She didn't turn around to watch him go. At the sound of the door closing after him, she fell to the floor and started crying again, rocking herself back and forth.

"This was for the best, Kate." She mumbled, not believing her own lie. "It had to be done."

TBC.

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**Thank you so much for reading and for keeping on supporting this story. I love you guys so much!**

**Feedback is an amazing fuel for my brain. It makes me write faster! ;)**

**Big thanks to the lovely Tshlw for editing this chapter for me and for being there, cheering me on every step of the way.**


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